THE HAPPY ENDING
She halted just within the closed
door. At first he could not believe it was she.
For a little he went blind, a black streaming mist
hiding her from him. But when it cleared away
she was still there. Their eyes met and clung
across the room.
“Esther! You came! I didn’t
believe ”
“He asked me to come.”
“He asked you! I don’t understand ”
“Would you rather I had stayed away?”
For answer he held out hungry arms
toward her. He would have sat upright; pain
and weakness were forgotten. But she was at his
side in a breath.
“You must not.”
She put her hands on his shoulders
to restrain him. He caught them and held them
close to him. She let him for a moment, then
gently freed them from his clasp.
“It is no worse than he says your
hurt?”
“It isn’t bad at all.”
“You’re sure? You
see, I didn’t know until I got to the office.
And they made it out very bad there. They even
said you mightn’t live. And I had to wait
until he came with definite word. It was terrible.
When I thought oh, David!”
The steadiness she had had to keep
up before others gave way. Suddenly she sat
on the bed, pressing both hands tightly against her
face.
“Don’t, Esther!”
Her weakness hurt him. “Don’t!
There’s nothing to cry for.”
“Let me. I’ll be all right in
a minute.”
He let her then. And he wished
that the hot iron in his own heart could be cooled
a little in tears. But his eyes were dry and
aching and the iron burned deeper. There was
something to cry for.
“Now!” It was the tempter
whispering. “Now is the time to tell her.”
But a strange paralysis was on his tongue and will.
She waited until she could achieve
the smile she wanted him to see. Then she let
her hands fall to her lap. And in the brightness
of that smile the tears on her lashes were dewdrops
that had caught the morning sunlight.
“Speak up! Now!” It was the imp
again.
“Why do you falter?”
Now was the time to tell her of that beautiful kingdom
and how he proposed to win it for them, to ask her
to wait until he could lead her through its gates.
And still he could not. . . . And suddenly
he knew that he never could. . . .
“There!” The smile was
perfect. “That is over. I didn’t
mean to be so foolish. It’s only because
I had been thinking it was so much worse. Now
I can take time to be glad. About this, I mean.”
From the pocket of her jacket she
drew forth a folded sheet of paper and held it out
to him. It was the letter from St. Mark’s.
“It seems almost too good to
be true, doesn’t it? though we ought
never to say that. I found it on the floor by
my desk this morning. I thought it was some
of the office correspondence and opened it and do
you mind? when I saw what it was I read
it through. I hardly knew what I was doing.
It didn’t seem important then. But now
Oh, I am glad glad!” She nodded
brightly. “The finest thing in the world
has happened.”
He looked dully at the letter which
ought to have meant so much to him.
“I had forgotten that.”
“It means you can go back to your own profession,
doesn’t it?”
“I suppose so. Yes, it means that.”
“It has been like a story, hasn’t
it? This summer, I mean. A beautiful story!
In the beginning you came to the office to
prison, you said. And I was plodding along,
trying to make myself believe that I liked bookkeeping.
A pair of lame ducks we were, with broken wings.
I’m a little sorry for us yet aren’t
you? But now we Do you think it
would hurt you if I raised the shades? It’s
such a glorious morning and I love sunshine.”
“It wouldn’t hurt, of course.”
She went to the windows and raised
the shades and the morning radiance, the light in
which all hues are seen as they are, flooded the room.
Then she went back to her seat beside him.
“That is much better, isn’t
it? . . . A beautiful story! Now our wings
are strong again. . . .”
And so she went on, painting in the
brightest colors she knew how to mix what she supposed
the future held for them. She tried to make it
splendid. St. Mark’s was to be but a beginning.
He was to go very far, building many beautiful churches,
striving to make each a little finer than the one
before, until he was famous throughout the land “Which
is worth something, of course, but not half so much
as knowing that you have done good work. You
remember, I said once that would be your great reward.”
She was to live outdoors, careful not to overdo her
voice practise at first. After a while, when
she had grown stronger, she would study hard to make
up for the years she had lost, perhaps go abroad to
work under the great voice builders and coaches there.
And “some day,” perhaps, rumor would tell
him of a new contralto whom people loved to hear sing.
. . . It was a little childish, no doubt, and
rather overdone.
But he did not think of that.
He was not listening. He was seeing, not the
picture she painted but that which she made, there
in the sunshine. She was whiter than ever.
Deep shadows were under her eyes. But the eyes
themselves were very steady, her voice never quavered,
nor did the smile flicker. Where did she get
her spirit, this slender fragile girl who seemed so
in need of another’s strength for support?
And upon the bright brave soul of
her he had wanted to put a stain. He could not
do that! He no longer wanted to do that.
For the questions Jonathan had left
burning in David’s heart had answered themselves.
As he watched her, he saw what on the high mount
he had refused to see. He had hurt her enough.
Not through another hurt could he find healing for
her. And it would hurt her, what he had planned.
It would take from her all that he loved; and it would
add shame, the shame of cowardice, if not of cruelty
to others. He could not do that; even if she
were willing he could not. Yielding was not
the simple thing it had seemed. Something he
lacked or something he had which
forever shut the gates of that kingdom upon him.
It had been but an evil impossible dream. But
a beautiful dream! There was yet no joy in renunciation.
David went down from the mount into
the valley where shadows were deep and unbroken.
“And so the story ends happily,
as it should. Everything has come out right.”
“No! Everything has not come out right!”
“You mustn’t say that. You mustn’t
think ”
“Esther!” It was hard
to meet her eyes then. “I’ve got
to say it to let you see the sort of man
I am. Last night I was thinking of of
what has happened to us and what we would do.
There seemed only one way out that I could bear.
I made up my mind. I was going to you to tell
you that I would get free I would have managed
that somehow and then come to you.
I could have done it last night.”
The smile faded. She waited for him to continue.
“But Smith stopped me.
I am glad he stopped me. For now ”
He could not go on.
“Now you can’t. Is that it?”
“I can’t.”
“I am glad you can’t.”
She said it very quietly. Her
eyes left his and turned to the sunny window.
But the light that shone on the thin tired face came
not from without.
The ugly tempter lifted its wings and flew swiftly
away.
“Are you,” he began again
at last, “revising your opinion of me?
I hope you are.”
A hand fell lightly on his lips.
“I don’t want to revise my opinion of
you. I couldn’t. And I understand what
you wanted and why it is impossible for us.
Because last night I could
have let you do it.”
“Oh, Esther, I never meant to
hurt you. Can you believe that?”
“I know. But you haven’t
hurt me even though for a while I was shameless
as I never thought I could be. I said the story
has ended happily. And it has with
the happiest ending possible, the only happy ending
it could have. Because there is nothing to regret.”
“Nothing to regret!” Unbelief was in
his gaze.
“Ah! We mustn’t
talk about it but can’t you see can’t
you understand?”
She leaned over him, giving him her
eyes, letting him look to the very depths he had once
wanted to explore. He saw love there, and joy
in love, but as well the will to renounce gladly and
no lurking shadow to say that she had bravely lied.
“Do you believe that I am not unhappy
and will not be?”
“I can’t understand. But I have
to believe. I am glad to believe.”
He closed his eyes and relaxed his
tired body, to learn that the wound was throbbing
sharply. But that was a little thing.
She sat beside him, her face turned
again to the sunlight. Once she reached out
and touched his hand caressingly; he caught hers and
clung to it as though he could not let it go.
It was not a long silence.
But it was long enough. In those
few minutes he went up out of the valley again and
stood with her on another mount. And to him,
too, came the free will to renounce; and understanding.
Sorrow abode with him still, an exquisite pang that
was to leave a lasting scar. But in his heart
glowed a strange fire as if for some splendid
victory lighted only for that hour, it may
be, but revealing to him what he had found; a love
that had not failed, that asked nothing, able to triumph
over all things, even itself. It was so he had
dreamed love might be. He was glad he had found
it. He was glad of the cup it had put to his
lips. He was the richer for her. He would
be the richer for seeing her go. He hoped that
the sorrow would never quite pass out of his heart,
that the love would never shrink to a mere memory.
He lifted shining eyes to hers.
“Now I understand! Some
things aren’t worth all they cost. What
I wanted last night is one of them. But this I
would not be without it, even though ”
“Nor would I.”
Tears were gemming her eyes once more.
But they were not sorrowful tears and they did not
fall.
It was time for her to go. The
hands that had not ceased to cling fell apart.
She went slowly across the room.
At the door she lingered a moment,
looking back. Through the streaming mist he
saw her face, bright in the white glory of renunciation.
She smiled . . . and was gone. . . .
The same brightness was upon him.
But he did not know that. He stood on the mount
to which she had led him, still seeing her. And
still there were no regrets. To him was coming
the strength he was to need, a faith in himself that
was to tide him over many gray morrows. It was
a very high place, the peak of his life. Ever
afterward he was to look up to that hour.
That evening came Shirley, summoned
by Mrs. Jim. But the nurse turned her back at
David’s door. He had fever and the dreaded
infection had set in. There must be no excitement.
So Shirley must wait. Two days more she had
to wait, anxious days during which she learned fast.
On the third the nurse raised the embargo for a few
minutes, and Shirley, breathless and afraid, went
to the door through which the other had gone.
He was ready for her coming.
His only dread was that she might see what he must
never let her know. He had a deep pitying tenderness
for her, to whom love had appeared only as a pretty
toy.
She halted uncertainly at the door.
He saw that she doubted her welcome.
“David, do you still want me to come?”
“Come, Shirley.”
She went quickly to him and knelt by his side, and
kissed him.
“Dear, I wanted to come.
I couldn’t stay away. And it wasn’t
because you gave me a choice. Won’t you
believe that, David?”
“I believe that, Shirley.”
“You only said, ‘Come.’
Don’t you really want me? Do you think
that after a while, when I’ve learned all I
have to learn and proved what I have to
prove you will be glad that I came?”
“I am glad now.”
He touched the pretty gleaming hair caressingly.
“I believe you are! And they said oh,
David!”
She caught his hand and pressed it to her cheek.
Then he saw that she had come to the
threshold of her house of toys and stood looking out,
trembling and frightened before the bigness of the
real world. He was staggered by that. She
had come to the door too late; for if she fared forth,
she must go alone and untaught through a country whose
loneliness he had known. He must save her from
that. He could not give her the one thing which
could companion her through those arid wastes.
The tender protective impulse surged stronger to
his aid.
Gently he sought to lead her back into her playhouse.
“Shirley, I have a confession
to make. While you were gone St. Mark’s
decided to build. I submitted some plans and they
were accepted. Do you like my surprise?”
“Then you can go back to your profession.
I am glad of that.”
“It’s a big commission,
Shirley. Almost as big as St. Christopher’s
would have been. We’ll be rolling in wealth for
us.”
“You won’t have to worry any more.
I am glad of that, too.”
She was resisting, looking back toward
the still open door and the prospect beyond.
It had frightened her, but it had thrilled her, too.
Anxiously he pointed inward.
“It means more than that.
If I’ve done pretty well and I’m
sure I have it will bring a lot more work.
We can have all the things our mouths used to water
for. We’ll move into a very nice apartment
at once, and have a maid, maybe a nurse for Davy Junior.
We’ll take on the club again think
of hearing the crack of a good drive once more!
There’ll be theaters and concerts, with a taxi
on rainy evenings. And when we’re settled
in that new apartment we’re going to give a
beautiful dinner to celebrate our return to the surface.
My stars! can’t you see our guests’ eyes
popping? And when the first check comes in from
the St. Mark’s people I’m going to buy
you let’s see, what shall
I buy you? Pinch me, please. When
I think of it I can’t quite realize that it’s
true. Isn’t it bully, Shirley dear?”
“Of course,” she said
slowly. “But somehow those things they
seem so so little, now I have you back.
Do they really mean so much to you, David?”
“You’ve come back that’s
the great thing, of course. And there’ll
be no worries to make things hard for us, no penny-pinching
and discontent, no misunderstandings.
Don’t you see? It’s the whole thing.
And so ” He tried to laugh gaily,
but an echo was in his heart. “And so
the story ends happily.”
For a little a question rested in
her eyes. His laugh, trailing off into huskiness,
puzzled her, vaguely hurt her. She sighed.
Then habit began to prevail. The poor little
sentimental regret for this sudden prosperity died.
Her eyes rested on the pretty new toys tricking out
her house. And as she looked the door closed
softly, shutting her in forever. She did not
know.
“Do you know, I was almost sorry
for a minute? I hardly know why. It is
better this way. We’ll have to go back
to believing in fairies, shan’t we?”
Her eyes were dancing. Happiness
tinted her velvety cheeks. All that she saw
was good.
“Oh, David, I believe we’re
going to be happier than ever before!”